Demongate
by Grimsborith
Summary: Alexander Rane must create a force capable of throwing back a Daemon invasion from within Ravenguard while the city is under siege.


_2 Mach 3998_

_Combat log of General Anthony Glavius_

_ New Cor, the only other remaining imperial bastion on the planet, has just gone dark. We are alone. Enemy strength is estimated at anywhere from 35 to 40 million troops, outnumbering us nearly five to one. We have been holed up here in Ravenguard for three months now and supplies are running low. Civilians are beginning to starve and the enemy launches daily assaults that we can barely hold off. Warmaster Calvera isn't helping matters either with his senseless assaults against the enemy's fortifications. The imperial fleet sent to relieve us was devastated in high orbit, leaving the possibility of relief distant at best. May the Emperor protect us._

Chapter I

Sleep was an invaluable commodity on the front lines and Sergeant Alexander Rane had his unceremoniously cut short. A nearby explosion shook the ceiling of his squad's bunker, quickly rousing them. Rane ran to the entryway to see other men of the Thracian 503rd running to take up positions along the trench line. Lieutenant Keats nearly ran over him, skidding to a halt just in time.

"Looks like this is a big one" he said. "Ariel imagery suggests at least three enemy divisions coming down hard. 5000 tanks plus."

Rane nodded trying his best to mask his nervousness. Him and his squad took up positions on the firing step of the trench. Peering over the lip they could see a large dust cloud approaching in the distance. From the size of the cloud it looked like a lot more than five thousand tanks. Looking down the trench he saw Chaplin Albany walking down the line, blessing each guardsmen in turn. He briefly wondered how many men would get through the day alive. He quickly shoved the thought from his mind. That kind of thinking was what got people killed.

Lieutenant Keats climbed up over the lip of the trench and began his standard motivational speech:

"Now I know that you are all hungry, wet and, tired, but ... well ... deal with it!"

Rane briefly smiled to himself. There was a reason that the Lieutenant hadn't gone into politics. To slightly less than resounding cheers from the men Keats walked back and made to jump into the trench. It was at that moment that his head seemed to disappear. At first Rane didn't know what was happening but then he noticed the red goop that seemed to be coating his body.

"Sniper!" he yelled as a few feet down the line Sergeant Harper met a similar fate to Keats. The men of the 503rd collectively ducked down in their trenches. _They must have snuck in close during the night. Damn the watchmen for not catching them. _Craning his head to see as far over the trench lip as he could without exposing himself, Rane saw that the dust cloud was getting closer. Major Venner elbowed his way down the trench line, accompanied by Commissar Fenrek.

"Major" said Rane with a crisp salute.

"Colonel now" Venner responded glumly. "Snipers got the old man before we knew what was happening. Where's Keats?"

Rane gestured towards the lieutenant's headless corpse that the medics were in the process of picking up. Venner leaned down and ripped off Keats' stripes and pinned them onto Rane.

"There's a crater a few hundred meters in front of the main trench. The enemy snipers seem to be using it to coordinate their efforts. I need your platoon to take it."

"Yes sir, we'll have it" said Rane. Admittedly he was feeling much more queasy then his words conveyed, but he wasn't about to let the colonel in on that.

"Good" said Venner giving him an encouraging smile before continuing down the line. Commissar Fenrek just scowled.

"Sergeant Arby" yelled Rane "take the left flank. Griffen, you take the right. Private Anders!"

"Yes sir!" shouted the private snapping a formal salute.

"With Harper dead you're promoted to acting sergeant" said Rane. "Keep your squad in reserve and cover us. My squad will take point. Ready... Charge!"

As one, the men of B Platoon rose out of their trenches and charged towards the crater. The enemy snipers shot sergeant Griffen and several guardsmen but the rest made it there in one piece. Leaping into the trench, Rane found himself face to face with the enemy. The sniper was wearing body armor engraved with incomprehensible runes. On its back were tanks seemed to be pumping some kind of liquid into its body through a series of tubes. Being in no hurry to find out their contents, Rane quickly fired a las round to its head. Private Yeats was not so lucky. A slimy green substance sprayed all over him when he bayoneted one of the tanks. He keeled over screaming as his skin disintegrated before their eyes. Averting his gaze, Rane found the vox caster and checked in with the colonel.

"Area secured sir. Do you have any further orders"

"Yes" the Colonel replied. "Get the hell out of there. The main enemy force is only a few minutes away and you wouldn't want to be caught out there when they arrive"

"Rodger that sir" Rane replied. "Everyone pack up! We're leaving!"

It was at that moment that there was a whooshing sound overhead. This was followed by a series of loud explosions as the men of B Platoon dove for cover. Looking up, Rane saw that his men were miraculously unharmed. The same couldn't be said about the rest of the Regiment though. He could barely make out their outlines through the firestorm that was engulfing their trenches. Turning back, Rane could make out the first lines of enemy tanks in the distance.

"Take up positions on the edge of the crater" he shouted. "Anti-Tank groups to the front! Everyone else cover them!"

As enemy tanks closed in the firestorm engulfing the 503rd abated. Rockets and grenades were launched into the oncoming horde and many tanks were stopped dead in their tracks. What made the difference in the end, however, were the anti-tank mines that the commissar had gotten for them just a few days before. Rane smiled as a nearby enemy tank was engulfed by a column of fire when it rolled over one of them. With their armored spearhead milling around, enemy troop carriers rolled in to take up the slack. The one approaching B platoon was taken out by a lucky missile shot, but the rest of the regiment wasn't so lucky. The carriers rolled to a halt a few meters from the trenches and out of them came wave after wave of enemy troops. Rane could see that in many places the 503rd was on the verge of breaking.

To make matters worse, rolling in behind the front line of tanks was a Leviathan weapons platform. At least five times as wide as a Lehman Russ tank, it's top appeared to be open and full to the brim with heavy weapons. Sergeant Arby and seven others were cut down by heavy bolter fire before they could get into cover.

Seeing that they were on the verge of being surrounded Rane ordered a retreat. Zigzagging back the fourth to avoid enemy fire, B Platoon ran back towards friendly lines. Leaping into the trench, Rane saw the recently promoted Sergeant Anders and half of his squad lying on the ground in various states of dismemberment. A quick numbers check told him that he had fifteen guardsmen left out of the Platoon's original forty.

"Grenade!"

He looked down and saw that a grenade had rolled right in between his feet. Controlled by the overwhelming imperative to protect the lower portions of his body, he quickly scooped up the grenade and tossed it back in the general direction of its owners. The subsequent cries of agony told him that it had hit.

It was at that moment that an enemy soldier jumped into the trench behind him. Less well armored than the sniper, it had instead etched demonic runes onto its own skin. Leaning back in a combination of surprise and disgust, Rane slipped in a pool of blood and fell flat on his back. Several more enemies jumped into the trench and charged at him with bayonets. Luckily, the first one was downed by a las shot from behind him and the others quickly followed suit. Turning around, he say Commissar Cadet Antheus bearing down on the enemy, pistol in hand. He toppled two more with las shots and finished the last one off with his chain sword. Shaking the blood off of the blade, he smiled and offered Rane a hand up.

"Having a good time?" he asked.

"The usual" Rane replied, doing his best to quash the terror and constipation that he felt creeping into his voice.

Hearing a loud cry from farther down the line, they saw Commissar Fenrek and a small group of guardsmen charging over the top of the trench towards a large shell hole. They seemed to be protecting one guardsman who was carrying a large bag. By the time that they arrived in the shell hole only five of them were left. The Commissar then grabbed bag and heaved it into the Leviathan. The explosion was massive. To the cheers of the 503rd, the Commissar and his men sprinted back towards the trench. They were only a few meters away when a nearby squad of enemy troops cut them down.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rane say Cadet Antheus leap out of the trench and run for his master's body. Rane half expected him to try and drag Fenrek's corpse back to their lines, but instead the Cadet scooped up his master's bolt piston and with it in one hand and his las pistol in the other he proceeded to wipe out the enemy squad. As he jumped back into the trench he and Rane were accosted by Major Harkin.

"Venner's dead" he said. "Died in the bombardment. I'm promoting you to Acting-Major and giving you 2nd Company. We're pulling back towards the city. Our armor is heading this way for a counter attack. They should meet us along the way."

A few meters down the line a missile impacted spraying dirt and body parts high into the air. The Colonel raised his voice for everyone to hear:

"Listen up everyone, we're pulling back towards the city! I'll be staying behind with 1st Company to screen the retreat! Major Bowler will be in command from here on out! Now go!"

They didn't need to be told twice. The four hundred men that remained of the 503rd bolted out of the trenches and ran as fast as they could towards Ravenguard. Unfortunately, there was a kilometer of open ground between them and the city. They were halfway there when the rearguard collapsed and enemy tanks rolled over the trenches to pursue them. As bolter fire cut through their ranks, Rane looked for any sort of cover. He found it in the form of a downed bomber whose burnt out hull punctuated the otherwise barren landscape.

"Over there!" he yelled pointing towards the craft. Several others saw it too, but most of them continued to sprint towards the city. Upon reaching the craft he immediately grabbed a nearby guardsman.

"Where's Colonel Bowler?" he asked the man.

"I dunno... I mean... I think I saw him get hit."

"I saw it too" chimed in a nearby engineer.

"So who's in command now?" asked Rane.

"I think Major Kirren is here somewhere" replied the engineer.

"Well find him!"

The man nodded and ran towards a nearby group of guardsmen. Looking around, Rane could see that only about twenty five men had made it. The troops that had kept running for the city were being mowed down by enemy tanks. He didn't expect any of them to make it. Commissar Antheus stepped up beside him, with one arm mangled beyond repair and the other still clutching his master's bolt pistol. He looked at Rane gravely.

"Acting-Colonel Kirren is dead. What are your orders sir?"

Rane looked around him. He saw the twenty five men crouching in the burned out wreck, he saw the endless hordes of enemy tanks enveloping them and, in the distance, he saw Ravenguard, the city that they were giving their lives to protect. Viewed from out here it looked like an ugly pile of shit, but he didn't see any better causes worth dying for. He turned to Antheus and gave him a pat of the shoulder.

"We hold".

It had been an ugly day. Major Al-Jaweli of the Feladrian 812th surveyed the field in his Lehman Russ battle tank. The enemy had wiped out three regiments of irreplaceable guardsmen and it had taken a massive armored counterattack to force them back. His own regiment had taken heavy losses and as for those who had taken the brunt of the attack there appeared to be no survivors. It the distance he saw what looked like the burnt out wrack of a bomber. Surrounding it were the smoldering carcasses of fifteen enemy tanks and hundreds of bodies. He told his driver to go and investigate. Getting closer, he could make out seven men walking towards him. All of them seemed to be wounded in one way or another. The one in front waved at him to stop. He got down found himself face to face with a man who might have looked handsome were it not for the massive scar running down the side of his cheek.

"I am Major Al-Jaweli, Feladrian 812th" he said. "And you are?"

"Acting-Colonel Alexander Rane, Thracian 503rd" the man replied, before collapsing from exhaustion.


End file.
